


A Lesson in Decorum

by pandoras_chaos



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-22 22:34:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/615098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandoras_chaos/pseuds/pandoras_chaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy knew how to conduct himself with the decorum befitting his pureblood status. That did not account for how he felt and acted around Albus Potter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lesson in Decorum

**Author's Note:**

> Written ages ago for my darling aki-hoshi's 26th birthday! Thanks ever to my brilliant beta, scarletcurls

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy knew how to conduct himself with the decorum befitting his pureblood status.

 

By the time he was four, he knew how to ride a broomstick well enough to terrorize the house elves. He knew his mother loved him and his father was proud of him. He knew all about the Battle That Was and had read _Hogwarts, A History_ so often he had it practically memorized. He also knew the relative velocity needed by an owl traveling down wind in order to intercept another moving at the same speed, arriving at the same time in Hogsmede at half past seven in the morning.

 

Which was probably why he Sorted into Ravenclaw, much to his mother’s dismay. Interestingly enough, his father’s disappointment looked suspiciously like relief, but Scorpius tried not to pay much attention to that.

 

All of these things, however, did not account for how he felt and acted around Albus Potter.

 

Al had been Sorted into Slytherin, though nobody knew why at first. He had turned up on September 1st, looking scared and timid like all the other first years. The Hat never lies though, and now, in his sixth year, nearly everyone had forgotten all about the shy and quiet Potter boy. He was a loose cannon.

 

It was rumored that while his brother James had gotten their father’s natural ability to disregard the rules, Al had inherited his uncles’ blatant mockery of them as well as his mother’s fiery temper. He alone of the potter children looked exactly like his famous father: all long limbs, skinny ankles, messy black hair and piercing green eyes. However, he’d also inherited Harry Potter’s raw power. It tended to unleash itself at the most inopportune times and Al had a temper like a rampaging, insulted hippogriff.

 

Scorpius found him unnaturally intriguing and more than a little bit attractive.

 

Not that he could ever tell anyone this, of course. It was unlike his housemates to judge, but he didn’t even want to think about what his father would say I he ever found out his son was a poof. So Scorpius watched Al from afar.

 

Al had gone through a fair share of partners through his years at Hogwarts. The walls were lined with dejected, yet smug scores of his conquests. The first time Al had snogged a boy at a raucous dorm party (a pretty little thing called Geoffrey Goldstein) it had caused a marvelous scandal. From fourth year on, Al had dutifully swung both ways, thus assuring himself that the entire school wanted him at all times.

 

Al’s brother and sister eventually gave up trying to rein their brother in and instead took to laughing along with him from their perches in Gryffindor Tower.

 

Scorpius knew all about Al’s reputation, but it didn’t stop him squirming uncomfortably now, seated not two yards from the object of his every wanking fantasy for years. The same fantasy that was, in fact, staring back at him with the most wicked expression in those bright green eyes, it defined sinful. As he watched, Al’s tongue surreptitiously licked along his bottom lip before biting down on the pink flesh. Scorpius swallowed audibly.

 

Al smirked.

 

As Scorpius categorically tried to remember why he had thought accepting his cousin’s invitation to the latest Slytherin party, Al was devouring firewhiskey with a rate bordering alarming.

 

“Looks like someone’s getting laid tonight,” Annette Greengrass-Nott giggled into Scorpius’ ear. “He might well shag you right here.”

 

Scorpius promptly turned purple with embarrassment and attempted to stand with what little dignity he had left. This proved not to be much as his brain was nearly pickled from the gin he’d consumed and his legs only reluctantly parted company with the sofa he’d been sitting on for three years —or perhaps it had only been a few hours.

 

All he knew was that he had to get out of there, and soon, before he did the unthinkable and finished what Al Potter had started. Kissing Annette on the head –or rather, bumping his chin painfully against the side of her skull –he focused on walking in a somewhat straight line to the door.

 

He was going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning, but at least the Malfoy dignity had apparently remained mostly intact. Scorpius was so concentrated on the act of putting one foot in front of the other that he missed someone coming up right behind him as he reached the darkened tunnel-like passage that led to the door.

 

He jumped slightly when two hands roughly tugged on his hips and he staggered backwards, landing in a rather undignified heap against the solid line of a very warm, very _male_ chest. Wiry arms snaked around his waist and he couldn’t stop the very small “eep!” that escaped his mouth when two lips brushed against his ear.

 

“And where, exactly, do you think you’re off to?”

 

Scorpius shivered. He _knew_ that voice.

 

“You didn’t really expect me to let you walk out of here just like that, did you?” There was a definite smirk in Al’s tone now. “Not after you’ve been practically begging me to fuck you all night with those pretty grey eyes of yours.”

 

Scorpius felt himself flush, but he couldn’t help the involuntary grind backwards his hips made at those words. Al groaned low in his throat and Scorpius felt a thrill of power race up his spine. He dimly wondered what Al sounded like when he came.

 

Disregarding Scorpius’ vague protests, Al dragged him back into the room. Through his blush, Scorpius tried desperately to ignore Annette’s knowing grin. Stumbling only slightly through the catcalls, Al manhandled Scorpius up the thankfully cool and dark spiral staircase that led, he knew, to the sixth year boy’s dormitory. Pausing only to turf an unhappy classmate out of the room, Al slammed Scorpius up against the nearest wall and immediately kissed him hard enough to bruise.

 

Scorpius didn’t know what to do with his hands. He figured he should have been comparing this earth-shattering kiss to any other he’d ever had (and probably come up short by a long way), but all his gin-sodden brain could handle was a faint panic about his hands. He didn’t want to feel stupid and card them through Al’s hair –what if he didn’t like his hair touched? Or worse yet, what if Scorpius found his hair so soft and silky he immediately wanted to touch nothing else ever again? Scorpius’ brain was resolutely disregarding the tingles in his lower lip where Al had tugged a little too harshly with his sharp little teeth, but Scorpius couldn’t ignore the steady grinding rhythm of a well-placed knee against his cock.

 

Al moved with sinewy grace acquired, no doubt, from extensive practice. Scorpius, however, didn’t really seem to think that fact was important at the moment. All thoughts of nervous fidgeting flew spectacularly out the window as he bucked forward, gripping Al’s shoulders with a vice-like strength and knocking his own head back against the unforgiving stone wall. If Al minded the sudden break in their kiss, he certainly didn’t show it, attacking Scorpius’ neck instead with sucking brutality and making Scorpius’ knees turn promptly to jelly.

 

Deciding he was far too uninvolved for his liking, and thinking again of those low groans Al had made earlier, Scorpius pushed hard with his hips, knocking Albus slightly off balance. Scorpius took immediate advantage of the situation, pushing Al backwards until they landed with a soft thud onto the nearest four poster.

 

Al made a small huffing noise that might have been a laugh except that his tongue was currently occupied, having engaged Scorpius’ into an epic battle for dominance. Scorpius bit back a moan and ground his hips harder into Al’s, thankful for the gin that had apparently stolen his inhibitions. He couldn’t really care about his wanton behavior now, not when Al was groaning again and rocking into his thrusts with increasing force.

 

Scorpius felt a moment’s hesitation, knowing how close he was to getting a well and thorough shagging from the one boy he’d been wanking over for six solid years, yet afraid this might be his only chance. He suddenly wished he hadn’t had so much to drink and vowed to commit every moment of this probably one-off encounter to memory. He instinctively slowed, laving Al’s collarbone with the flat of his tongue and reveling in the angle Al’s spine created when he arched gracefully off the bed.

 

Groaning again, Al muttered, “What are you doing?”

 

“Trying to remember this,” Scorpius replied, punctuating his statement with a playful nip just below Al’s ear.

 

Al was apparently not a very patient boy. In an instant, he rolled sideways, taking Scorpius with him and landing squarely between his parted thighs. 

“Much better,” Al whispered before rolling his hips forward and capturing Scorpius’ gasp in a heated kiss.

 

Scorpius felt like his veins were on fire. He’d heard others describe sexual encounters this way before, but he’d never actually felt the sensation personally. Certainly he was no blushing virgin, but something about Al made his limbs turn to mush and his heart rate shoot up so fast it felt as though he’d taken a particularly vicious nose-dive on his Firebird C20 –the fastest racing broom yet made.

 

He could feel Al thrumming through his body and it suddenly dawned on Scorpius why he found Al so bloody attractive. The steady flow of energy he was feeling was Albus’ natural magic. It was magic in the basest sense: a constant, raw power that flowed continuously out of Al and into Scorpius. His wonder must have shown on his face, because Al stopped moving and stared down at him.

 

“You can feel it too, yeah?” Al murmured, biting his lip in a nervous gesture that seemed to run in his family.

 

Scorpius nodded, his head suddenly clear. Slowly, he stretched his neck upward, pressing his lips softly against Al’s. The gentle caress seemed to have startled Al, though. He froze, still balanced carefully over Scorpius’ body. Gradually, he leaned into the kiss and Scorpius could feel himself smiling. This was clearly more than a one-off.

 

Speed and haste were replaced with something much heavier. The need was still there, but something had changed imperceptibly, making even Albus Potter slow his movements to gentle caresses and stolen kisses. By the time both boys were finally naked, the lust had built up again to a raging fire, though it seemed to Scorpius, deeper than before.

 

Scorpius didn’t even flinch when he felt Al’s slick finger circling his arsehole. Instead, he arched his back, begging to be fucked more clearly than ever before. Al smiled wryly and slid his finger in to the knuckle, licking a broad stripe up Scorpius’ cock simultaneously. Scorpius’ eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he uttered a harsh grunt when a second finger joined the first. Al didn’t suck Scorpius’ cock into his mouth, but licked maddeningly slow paths up the thick vein, adding a wicked twist to his fingers as he did so. Scorpius was aware of the steady stream of verbal nonsense issuing out of his mouth, but he couldn’t seem to stop.

 

“I’m going to fuck you, Malfoy,” Al whispered, tugging on Scorpius’ earlobe and making his cock jerk. He could feel the tip of Al’s erection barely grazing the sensitive edges of his arse.

 

“Then do it,” Scorpius gasped.

 

Al grinned wickedly and rocked his hips forward, sliding smoothly into Scorpius until his balls slapped against the other boy’s arse. Scorpius groaned and arched into Al, canting his hips up and trying to take in even more of Al’s cock.

 

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Al breathed before sliding out a fraction and slamming back in with such force, the bed knocked against the wall.

 

Scorpius threw his head back and moaned so loudly he wondered if they could hear him in the Slytherin common room. Belatedly he thought about silencing charms, but all thought was rapidly consumed with the steady thrusting of Al’s hips as he drove his cock harder and harder into Scorpius.

 

Scorpius’ nails were leaving bloody gashes down Al’s back, but neither boy was taking notice, choosing instead to kiss, lick and bite any available flesh. Scorpius arched again and pushed his hips up to meet every movement. The position trapped his cock between their stomachs so that each push made the sensitive head drag along heated skin.

 

Al growled and slid his right hand up the back of Scorpius’ thigh, tugging his knee over his shoulder and thrusting in deeper. Scorpius screamed, just as Al hit his prostate. Scorpius’ back arched impossibly high off the bed and he came in thick ropes across his stomach and chest.

 

Biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood, Al slammed his hips forward twice more before throwing his head back with a deep groan and exploding through his orgasm. He caught himself just in time, bracing his slightly trembling arms on either side of Scorpius’ head so as not to collapse bodily on top of the other boy.

 

Scorpius’ vision was swimming dazedly, but he grinned upward into Al’s face. Al huffed out a tired laugh and rolled sideways, landing in a graceful heap on his back. Scorpius turned on his side and watched as Al stretched lazily and closed his eyes, a satisfied smile tugging at the edges of his lips.

 

Scorpius felt a moment of brief unease, not knowing if he should get up and leave or if he was expected to stay. Nothing in his Malfoy training prepared him for awkward one-offs with random blokes. Just as he was starting to panic with uncertainty, Al’s arm snaked around his shoulders and pulled him against his chest.

 

Scorpius relaxed, blaming his fear on the gin still swimming merrily through his system. He’d worry about awkward goodbyes in the morning. For now, he was too knackered to care. He shifted slightly and was distracted by the line of coarse dark hair that ran from Al’s navel down to the base of his cock. He followed it with a fingertip and grinned when he felt the muscles contract beneath his touch.

 

“Careful there,” Al slurred, shifting his head on the pillow a bit. He yawned expansively and cracked an eye open with a leer, “Unless you’re up for round two.”

 

Scorpius’ grin widened to a smirk. Decorum, he thought, could bugger off.


End file.
